


Token

by moscca



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Even Secret-er Wedding, Gratuitous References to Attack of the Clones, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Canon, Secret Relationship, awkward courtship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 01:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7824391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moscca/pseuds/moscca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In public they cannot touch each other, can barely converse without the eyes of every onlooker fixed firmly upon them, and though he finds it a necessary sacrifice Hux can see how it torments Ren. Ren, needy Ren, who hadn’t even waited until the second occasion of their sleeping together to cuddle up to Hux post-coitus and mumble drowsily to him before promptly falling asleep in Hux’s own bed. Ren, who had brought Hux exotic gifts as a means of courtship and spent long evenings in Hux’s quarters pretending to enjoy the brandy he’d been offered and making endearing attempts at normal conversation. Ren, whose façade of brutish, single-minded violence had fallen entirely apart under Hux’s touch.<br/>-<br/>Kylo Ren decides to court Hux in the illustrious, clumsy tradition set by his grandfather. Hux, in turn, is no Padmé Amidala.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Token

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icicaille](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icicaille/gifts).



> Prompt: Kylo finds out about Anakin and Padme’s secret forbidden wedding and, as part of a continued effort to imitate his grandfather, decides he and Hux need to do the same.  
> Written for the lovely felucias as part of bygoneboy's mini-exchange on tumblr. I hope they enjoy it; I had such a hard time choosing between all their amazing prompts!

“Do you like it?”

In the pipe-riddled maintenance corridor where Ren has dragged him, Hux fingers the strange object that Ren has just bestowed upon him, trying to come up with a suitable response. The piece is perhaps an inch long, rectangular in shape, with little sunken carvings adorning its bone-white surface. A hole whittled through it allows it to be strung on a brown cord hanging from the charm.

“It’s…very nice, Ren,” he says at last, turning it over in his hands. “What exactly is it?”

Hux hasn’t the slightest clue why Ren has chosen the last minute before his departure on some mysterious mission to take him aside and press yet another odd gift into his hands. Perhaps he should be used to this by now. After all, their courtship had been unorthodox from the beginning, if it can even be called that. He’d been well aware of Ren’s dramatic tendencies from the start, and so it should really come as no surprise that those had made their way into this budding relationship between them, along with all the rest of Ren’s rather unique personality.

“It’s a japor snippet,” says Ren, his helmet off and his dark head hovering close to Hux’s, uncaring as always of any concept of personal space. “The wood grows in the deserts of Tattooine. I carved this piece myself, for you.” His voice is soft, vulnerable without the shield of his helmet.

Hux breathes a quiet sigh of relief- he’d had the brief, morbid thought that Ren might have given him some token made out of actual bone. It wouldn’t be unlike his lover to do so; after all, this is the man who hoards his enemies’ ashes in his own chambers. He runs a finger over the intricate carvings, following their contours across the snippet’s surface. Wood is scarce in the First Order, and Hux has never seen any with such a striking color.

Eyes darting nervously between Hux’s face and the charm, Ren continues his explanation. “It’s for good luck. I wanted you to have it before I left.”

A thought occurs to Hux, prompted by memories of Ren’s more exotic gifts. “You haven’t…imbued it with any particular abilities, have you?”

Ren raises a single dark eyebrow. “That’s not how the Force works, Hux.”

“Then how can it possibly bring about luck?”

“It just does!” says Ren, clearly exasperated. “You’re not supposed to question it.” That single phrase seems to sum up most of Hux’s experience with the Force.

“What were you even doing on Tattooine?” Hux mutters, still studying the piece as if expecting it to blow up in his face, much like Ren’s own lightsaber had combusted that one time. He’s long since concluded, after enough exposure to Ren’s Force abilities, that he wants nothing to do with the Force or any related trinkets, be they lightsabers or holocrons. This gift, however, is surprising in its thoughtfulness, in the clear care that went into making it.

“That’s confidential,” Ren replies, frowning. “Look, if you think it’s stupid, just give it back-“

Hux slips the cord over his head and tucks the pendant under his high collar in one decisive motion.

“I’m keeping it,” he says to Ren, patting the place where it now sits. “I like it far too much to return it, regardless of whether it’s really lucky or not.”

Ren’s crestfallen expression disappears, replaced by a pleased grin. “I suppose you’ll find out.”

“Depending on how the next few days go at work?”

“Depending on if I return to you in one piece.” Ren swoops in to plant a quick kiss on Hux’s parted lips before straightening up and replacing his helmet.

“In one piece- where the hell are you going, Ren?” But the blasted man is already heading out of the corridor. “Ren!”

He was only being theatrical, of course. Just trying to make Hux worry. The overdramatic brat. Hux reminds himself, once more, that Ren has left on many dangerous missions in the past and rarely returns with anything more than scrapes and bruises. His man- the mystic figurehead of the First Order, as deemed by Snoke- is deadlier than most living things in the galaxy. A weapon in human form, blunt and earnest, who despite his eccentricities has somehow carved out a place for himself in Hux’s life. And as illogical as it is, he can’t help but be concerned for Ren’s safety.

On his way back to the bridge, Hux’s pulse thuds against the token, held safe and hidden against his chest.

~

Several days pass in what feels like seconds to Hux, as he rushes madly about from one deck to another, approving orders, leading meetings, and most importantly, overseeing the design of Starkiller’s successor. After the destruction of the first weapon, he’d barely escaped the Supreme Leader’s wrath with his life, and it was only with the promise of a second, better weapon that he’d lived to tell the tale.

This, of course, is easier said than done, when taking into account the First Order’s limited resources and demoralized members. Resources are short; they could be replenished by more invasions, more controlled territory and populations, but with the massive loss of personnel on Starkiller, alternative solutions must be found in lieu of troopers.

The crew of the _Finalizer_ has risen impressively to the occasion. Even with its decimated staff, the ship continues to run at near-optimal function. There remains at least the pretense of normalcy amongst the silent, empty spaces left by those who didn’t make it off the imploding planet.

And so, in order to set a good example, Hux makes it his mission to work even harder and more efficiently than those around him. This means triple or quadruple work shifts back to back, protein bars wolfed down between meetings, vision blurry at the edges while squinting at holoscreens. It means bone-deep exhaustion and a coldness that only fades in the presence of one person who disappears and reappears at random. Worst of all, it means presumptuous crew members asking after his health and, often, a stern talking-to from Phasma, who is perhaps the only person from whom he will accept any concern. Sometimes gaps open up in his schedule that Hux does not recall making, and then it’s off for a talk with whatever technician in Communications decided that their poor General needed a break.

Today is not especially remarkable in its activity: morning begins with a small conference of higher officers, followed by a trip to the Trade office for an update on the state of their raw materials suppliers. That particular meeting goes on far longer than it really has any right to, and Hux barely has time to scarf down some tasteless broth from the cafeteria before he’s back on duty on the bridge.

The day’s ceaseless march is interrupted by a message from a short-haired lieutenant; Hux’s mind is too fuzzy to recall a name.

“Sir, Kylo Ren’s Upsilon shuttle has just docked in the hangar. I’m to tell you that he will report to you by the end of the night.”

Hux just barely stops himself from smiling. The idea of Ren reporting anything to him is laughable; Ren only uses ‘reports’ as an excuse to get Hux alone. A wave of relief follows when he realizes that this message indicates that Ren is safe and sound. _All that worry for nothing._

Hux thanks the lieutenant and dismisses him, hoping his face doesn’t betray his sudden improvement in mood as he strides towards the bridge. Ren is back, Ren is safe, and with that knowledge, a weight seems to lift from his overburdened shoulders.

~

Hux is just getting off beta shift in the evening when his lover appears: suddenly and without prelude, as he always does, and seemingly in need of attention, as he always is.

Ren trails him wordlessly until they reach his quarters, upon which he crowds Hux up against the durasteel door practically the moment it’s shut behind them. His hands rest tentatively on Hux’s waist, and his masked face lingers close to Hux’s own.

“I see you’re back from your mission,” says Hux. “Have you filed a report yet or checked in with medbay?” He manages to keep a straight face, even in this state of close proximity.

“I came to see you first,” comes Ren’s filtered voice through the mask. Hux can hear his heavy breaths augmented through the ridiculous voice apparatus.

“I noticed,” says Hux in response. “At least you waited until I finished my shift. I won’t have you distracting me from my duties.” The last part comes out as less of a reprimand than he would really like. He can tell Ren’s smirking behind the damn mask. Try as he might, he can’t completely keep Ren from knowing the effect he has on him. Even if the man didn’t have mind-reading abilities, it’s probably obvious.

“But you look so exhausted, General,” Ren teases. “Perhaps you ought to be distracted from your duties more often.”

It’s true; the construction of Starkiller’s successor is taking an even greater toll on him than the first one had. Now Snoke’s disapproval hangs over him like a blade above his head, and though the Resistance has suffered a blow to their fleet, it’s only a matter of time before they rebuild themselves and return, buoyed by their last victory. Hux has truly been running himself ragged in an attempt to stay ahead, and Ren, being the way that he is, can instantly tell even after days of being apart.

In lieu of a snappy response, Hux reaches up to undo the latches on Ren’s helmet, taking a small pleasure in the familiar hiss of the clasps releasing. He pulls it off Ren’s head, mussing his dark hair slightly in the process, and sets it on the side table by his bed while reeling Ren in to give him a proper greeting.

When their lips part again, he lets himself sigh into the space between their faces, feeling as though something in his chest has unknotted itself simply with Ren’s touch. There’s a thousand tasks to complete and only so many hours in the day, but these moments with Ren have to be savored like delicacies, rare as they are.

In public they cannot touch each other, can barely converse without the eyes of every onlooker fixed firmly upon them, and though he finds it a necessary sacrifice Hux can see how it torments Ren. Ren, needy Ren, who hadn’t even waited until the second occasion of their sleeping together to cuddle up to Hux post-coitus and mumble drowsily to him before promptly falling asleep in Hux’s own bed. Ren, who had brought Hux exotic gifts as a means of courtship and spent long evenings in Hux’s quarters pretending to enjoy the brandy he’d been offered and making endearing attempts at normal conversation. Ren, whose façade of brutish, single-minded violence had fallen entirely apart under Hux’s touch.

The man in question now stirs Hux from his reverie by bumping his long nose against the top of Hux’s head.

“There, there, you sentimental dope,” Hux murmurs sugar-sweetly, patting Ren on the back. “Looks like you could use some distraction too.” He’s just beginning to brainstorm ways for them to spend his free shift when he hears Ren poorly stifle a yawn. With a sigh, he files those ideas away for a time when they’re not both practically falling over with exhaustion.

“Change out of those filthy robes and I’ll consider letting you sleep in my bed without a shower,” he says to Ren, who casts a self-conscious eye down at his heavy garments. As Hux heads to the ‘fresher to ready himself for bed, he hears the sound of fabric thumping against the ground, followed by the creaking of his bedsprings as Ren collapses ungracefully onto the mattress. He smiles to himself at how oddly domestic it all seems.

Sleep is quick to come to Hux, with the combination of his perpetual fatigue and the comfort of Ren’s oversized, warm body next to his. In the first months of their strange relationship, he’d tried telling himself that it’s purely physical, but now there is no denying the reassurance Ren’s proximity brings him. Perhaps this is one weakness he can afford to have.

Soon his thoughts stutter off into half-waking nonsense, then nothing at all as Ren’s warmth seems into him, easing the stiffness from his bones and the tightness from his heart.

~

“So where are we going again?”

Even with the helmet on, Hux can tell Ren’s smiling from where he sits at the shuttle controls. “Not far, General. I’ll have you back for your next shift, don’t worry.”

Hux glances suspiciously at the plain black bag sitting by Ren’s feet in the cockpit. “I detest surprises,” he mutters, craning his head to get a better look at the starscape outside the window. Ren has promised him that he won’t regret spending his double free shift on this mysterious journey, but he’s already beginning to doubt that.

His lover has been acting rather odd as of late- that is, moreso than usual. Ren’s spontaneity usually manifests in the form of broken consoles and half-strangled petty officers, not impromptu dates to nearby planets. Truthfully, Hux prefers the latter if given the choice, but it’s still just strange enough to make him suspect that something is up.

To pass the time, he pulls out his datapad and scrolls through his schedule, planning out a few meetings for his next shift aboard the _Finalizer_. Ren’s promised to have him back in time, but that doesn’t exactly assuage his worries, considering how rarely Ren is on time for anything. He even shows up fashionably late to _battle_ , for space’s sake.

“Strap in,” Ren calls from the cockpit. “We’re about to enter atmo.”

Sighing, Hux does as he’s instructed, wondering once more what excuses Ren came up with to commandeer this shuttle for what are clearly leisure non-business purposes. Most likely the hangar attendants were simply too frightened to turn him down. Depending on how this outing goes, he’ll have to discuss that with Ren.

Entrance into the planet’s atmosphere goes smoothly- Ren is not altogether a bad pilot. Soon the dense verdant surface of the planet is visible, interspersed with wide and meandering bodies of water. As Hux cranes his head to get a better look out the viewport, Ren studies a set of coordinates and takes the shuttle lower, pausing to check their location on the screen.

The shuttle nears a mountain range to the west of the largest landmass. Most of the peaks are tipped with fresh snow tinted blue, most likely from some foreign element in the rock. Glacial runoff has cut valleys down the sides of the mountains and formed countless waterfalls and pools, finally unifying at the foot of the range to form a clear river.

Hux has never seen anything quite like it. His travels planetside usually take him to populated cities and business centers, sometimes to other space stations or barely-colonized meteoroids. He’s simply never had much of a reason to go this far from civilization. The difference it makes is remarkable.

“Brucine,” comes Ren’s voice, startling Hux from his awed reverie. “That’s the name of this planet. Fairly small, only about fifty million square miles in surface area, with a temperate climate. Populated by one major sentient race, but they shouldn’t bother us here.”

Hux gets a better look at the curling tendrils and thick trunks of the local trees growing upon the mountainsides as Ren navigates the shuttle down, searching for a flat place to land. Sizeable swathes of earth on the sides of a few peaks have been cut away by avalanches tumbling from on high. A few caves dot the craggy outlines of the summits. Hux wonders what sort of creatures they might provide shelter to.

At last, the shuttle touches down in a valley between two sweeping pinnacles. The clouds are high, providing an impressive view of the glittering snow miles above. _A landscape untouched_ , Hux thinks, even as their small piece of civilization touches down upon it, a black blot upon the lush greenery.

Ren kills the engine and shoots Hux an expectant look.

“Yes, I’m impressed,” Hux admits to him. He can’t help but grin at the way Ren’s whole posture straightens at the praise.

They leave the shuttle together, the mysterious black bag tucked under Ren’s arm. Outside, Hux’s senses are met with the sights and sounds of the planet- the cool air and dewy grass, the far-off thundering of waterfalls. He takes it all in with no small amount of appreciation.

Hux follows without question or protest when Ren starts off walking into the valley, still occupied with gazing at the landscape. Here and there lie boulders, bits of scree and rock debris, ranging from fist-sized to chunks that tower over Hux’s head, most covered with brittle purple moss that gives off a subtle tangy scent. Ren, his helmet still on, appears to be looking for something in particular. For once, Hux lets him lead the way.

He’s just about to ask what they’re looking for when Ren drops the bag at his feet.

“Here,” comes the mask-filtered voice. “This should be a good spot.” Ren’s gloved hands come up to release the latches on his mask, and he takes a deep breath of the fresh, unrecycled air.

“For what?” is Hux’s immediate response. As pleasant as this all is, certainly there’s no need for all the secrecy. He has a feeling Ren’s just doing it for dramatic effect anyway, as he does most things.

Ren crouches and unzips the bag. “For our picnic.”

“Our what, now?” Hux is fairly sure that the last time he’d come across the word “picnic”, it had been in some fanciful children’s book, the sort where the protagonists clearly lived somewhere other than the Outer Reaches. He can’t possibly fathom what would lead Ren to set up something like this, wondering briefly if the most recent phase of Ren’s training with the Supreme Leader has knocked a screw or two loose in the man’s brain.

“You heard me,” says Ren, rifling through the bag’s contents. “I wanted to take you on a proper date, and you hate crowded places.”

“So you took me to a near-uninhabited planet as a surprise?”

Ren shrugs. “You would’ve laughed at me if I’d brought it up to you directly. Would’ve said it was a waste of your time.”

Hux opens his mouth to argue, then shuts it after a moment. Ren’s right- he probably would’ve mocked the idea. Hell, it’s a struggle not to laugh even now. He keeps a straight face for his easily-offended lover’s sake.

“Okay. Fine. We’re having a picnic. I assume you stole some food from the cafeteria, or something like that?” He takes a few steps closer to get a better look at what Ren’s unpacking.

Ren flashes him a smile. “Even better.”

~

Twenty minutes later, and it’s clearer than ever that Kylo Ren is full of surprises.

Long past self-consciousness, Hux scarfs down another of the small sandwiches of an unknown meat, laden with spices that make his eyes water. The presence of any flavor whatsoever makes it clear that Ren has traveled farther than the limited dining services of the _Finalizer_ to prepare this lunch.

“Where did you even get this stuff?” he manages around a mouthful of food, sighing in bliss at the incredible taste.

Ren doesn’t even wince at Hux’s lack of table manners. If anything, the expression on his face grows even fonder. “I bought the ingredients on my last mission. I was a bit worried they’d spoil before I got to take you out, so I’m glad you were able to make it today.”

Hux gapes. “You made all this yourself? I thought you might have, I don’t know, ordered it from somewhere.” He spears a cube of some crunchy root vegetable dusted in red powder, dipping it in the accompanying sauce before bringing it to his lips.

Ren flushes and takes another bite of the spiky-husked fruit he holds, staining his full mouth red with juice. “I may have looked up some recipes. It’s been a long time since I prepared anything like this.”

“Did you cook for yourself when you were training with the Supreme Leader?” Hux is curious now, intrigued by Ren’s hidden depths. He would have never imagined Ren to have the patience for something like this.

“Yes,” says Ren, chewing thoughtfully, “but they weren’t anything special. Plain meals, made from whatever my master had on hand. He had better things to do than cook for me and the others.” Hux assumes he means his Knights, whom he has encountered on a few blessedly short occasions. He can’t help but imagine a teenaged Ren bustling around an isolated compound’s kitchen, working to feed his hungry underlings like some oversized mother-beast.

Hux snorts at the mental image, moving to finish off a few more of the vegetable cubes. “Well, you can mark me down as impressed. I had no idea you were capable of this kind of thing.”

Ren gives one of those small, careful smiles that Hux finds so odd and simultaneously endearing. “I can always try it again back on the _Finalizer_ , if you like it so much. The ingredients weren’t hard to get.”

“That would be…very nice, Ren. Perhaps when you have the time.” He’s almost stunned at Ren’s thoughtfulness. It’s not that the man is normally uncaring, but Hux has never seen him go so far out of his way simply for the happiness of someone else. Ren is badly socialized, if nothing else, and such ideas seem to rarely occur to him. Speaking of which-

“So what gave you the idea of a picnic anyway?” Hux asks, wiping his mouth as he reaches for the other half of Ren’s fruit. He’s nearly stuffed by this point, but there’s no telling when he’ll next have the opportunity to eat like this.

Pausing, Ren turns away to study the landscape set before them. Hux follows his gaze. This planet is truly beautiful- wild in a way that Hux rarely witnesses, and yet not so foreign as to be threatening. Ren’s choice of location gives them an excellent view. From here, they can spot at least seven different glacial waterfalls, and beyond those, the great curving river that cuts through the mountains, weaving back and forth like a drunken snake. The thundering tons of water in the distance prevent true silence.

“I’ve been doing some research,” says Ren at last. “On my grandfather. Darth Vader. Anakin Skywalker.” He turns back to Hux. “Do you know anything of Senator Padmé Amidala?”

Though unsure of what direction this conversation is taking, Hux answers regardless.

“Of course I do,” he replies, his brow furrowing as he recalls his early history lessons. “One of the most influential political figures in recent history. Crowned Queen of Naboo at a remarkably young age, if I recall. Heavily involved in negotiations surrounding the war between the Republic and the Separatist Alliance as well. Why do you ask?”

“Do you know who she married?”

Hux raises an eyebrow. “I thought she’d never married, as she died so young.”

Shaking his head, Ren answers, “She did marry someone. She married my grandfather, a Jedi Knight. It was a secret wedding, so the scandal never got out.”

“Really?” Though Ren’s assertion directly contradicts what Hux had learned on Arkanis years ago, he trusts Ren to have done his research, especially when it comes to anything regarding his idolized grandfather. “So how did you find out, then, if the wedding was in secret?”

“On my last mission,” Ren starts, “we landed on Naboo. It’s very different now than it was under my grandmother’s rule. While we were there, we found a monastic colony, isolated from the nearest cities. In it were records dating back centuries, of rites performed and rituals officiated. I’d already suspected that the planet might hold some answers about my grandfather- he’d stayed there for some time, you see.”

“And I suppose it did?” Hux prompts.

“I found their names in the records,” Ren says softly, the familiar tone of reverence sneaking into his voice as it always does at the mention of Anakin Skywalker. “A human holy man, Agolerga, officiated their wedding on Naboo. The records were confidential. No one outside the monastery knew of their union.”

“Hmm,” says Hux, hoping he sounds acceptably interested. Ren has a far-off look on his face again, so Hux attempts to get him back on track with another question.

“So what does this have to do with the picnic?”

“Oh, right,” says Ren, jerking back to attention. “Um, I looked into more records of the both of them, which led me to the estate on Naboo where Amidala stayed with my grandfather after several assassination attempts forced her away from Coruscant. One of the employees there recalled the two of them having stayed there during the ongoing turmoil- he wasn’t human, obviously, he had a much longer lifespan-“

“Ren.”

“I’m getting to the point! Look, when they’d stayed there, my grandfather would take my grandmother out to the fields by the estate to have lunch and talk. That’s what gave me the idea,” Ren blurts out.

Somehow Hux can’t even bring himself to be surprised. “So you took me here to reenact your family history, essentially?” he drawls.

Ren flushes furiously. “It’s not like that. I just thought it was a good idea, that’s all. I...I thought it was romantic. I’m not good at coming up with that sort of thing on my own.”

As much as he wants to keep ribbing Ren about this, that confession jabs at something in Hux’s chest. He’s disgustingly weak for Ren, for his shows of vulnerability that make them both far too sentimental than they should be, for men of their ranks. It’s his own fault that he’s gotten this way, and if it weren’t for the way Ren clearly needs this as much as he does, Hux wouldn’t tolerate it.

Still, he can’t let Ren get away with this without a little teasing.

“Any other historical scenes you want to recreate, then?” he says, as Ren huffs and rolls his eyes. “Should I expect to be dressed up in Nabooian fashions, and you in Jedi robes?”

Ren shoves him over onto his side, and Hux doesn’t bother resisting, laughing as he sprawls on the grass.

“It’s not like you’d even appreciate their royal garments,” Ren mutters, the corners of his mouth twitching as he leans over Hux.

This only serves to make Hux laugh even harder. “Oh, and of course you would,” he crows, “expert that you are on clothing trends! Tell me, will you be pursuing your- _oof_ ,” as Ren shoves him, “your sartorial interests as the master of the Knights of Ren?”

Ren then rises to the bait in the best possible way by tackling Hux completely to the ground. They roll a safe distance from the leftover food and proceed to end the date in their habitual way, reaching a breathless conclusion just in time for Ren to fly Hux back to his evening shift, leaving the wild green planet behind.

The hangar is not unpopulated when they return, and Hux is sure he will have to come up with some sort of excuse for disappearing with Lord Ren in a commandeered shuttle. He’ll just say something about orders from the Supreme Leader- no one ever questions that.

When they descend from the shuttle, Hux passes in front of Ren to walk a reasonable distance ahead. They perform this routine whenever they’re in public together: stilted interactions at carefully arranged arms-lengths from each other, and as always, absolutely no physical contact.

Hux straightens his faintly rumpled uniform as he strides ahead, pretending not to sense Ren’s burning gaze against his back.

~

The next day, in the middle of his afternoon shift, Hux receives a call on the private channel from the Supreme Leader. His stomach churns unpleasantly at the sight of the notification, but dutifully he sets his shoulders back and heads towards the meeting room, praying that this particular encounter will be less painful than some of the others.

The impassive hologram of Snoke awaits him in the hastily-constructed reception room, a poor substitute for the vast chamber that had accommodated their meetings on Starkiller.

“General,” comes the booming voice of Hux’s singular superior. “Inform me of the progress on our new weapon.”

Internally, Hux winces. Their progress has been hindered at every step by cowardly, wavering allies and an insurmountable shortage of personnel, to say nothing of the Resistance’s stubborn interference. Of course, he cannot admit this to the Supreme Leader. Instead, he attempts to put a somewhat positive spin on things as he explains the fruits of his hand-picked team’s effort to Snoke, who still manages to appear unimpressed.

“Very well,” he says when Hux concludes his report. “It would seem your First Order requires additional funds to begin work at an acceptable pace. I will see what I can do to procure these.”

“Thank you, Supreme Leader,” Hux manages, his heart leaping in his chest. “Your support is ever valued.” Though it’s never pleasant to debase himself like this before Snoke, he can’t deny the usefulness of having a sponsor who seems to have access to near-limitless credits. It must be a perk of being as ancient as he is.

“Your partnership with Kylo Ren has improved of late,” Snoke drawls offhandedly, to Hux’s silent horror. “At first it had seemed the two of you would allow your differences to hold you back from your true potential as leaders,” Snoke continues, either oblivious to or uncaring for Hux’s discomfort. “But I am pleased to see you both cooperating for the greater good. Continue as I have instructed.”

Without a further word, the hologram disappears, and Hux releases a long breath as the tension in his frame vanishes along with it.

 _Gods know what any of that was supposed to mean,_ he muses as he leaves the chamber. It’s possible that Snoke could have been alluding to his less-than-professional relations with his co-commander. And yet, if anything, the Supreme Leader had appeared to endorse the lessened hostility between them. Hux feels he should probably avoid reading too much into that.

What matters is that he’s secured more funding for the First Order, funding that has become increasingly necessary in sight of their reduced resources. The Engineering department will be very pleased with this news. Hux is in the midst of contemplating possible uses for the newfound funding when a firm grip secures itself around his bicep.

“I need to speak with you,” comes the low rumble of Kylo Ren’s voice, causing Hux to make a very undignified sound of surprise.

“ _Ren_ ,” he hisses. “You realize you can contact me through the comm like a regular person?”

Ren’s grip on his arm tightens. “It’s very urgent,” comes his reply, filtered by the voice apparatus of his helmet. Although the filter effectively removes most tonal subtleties from Ren’s voice, Hux can still read his every shift in mood. Right now, Ren both looks and sounds very anxious. His free hand is practically trembling by his side, Hux notes.

“Right then,” Hux sighs. “Let’s go back to my quarters and have a proper conversation.”

“No!” says Ren, so forcefully that Hux almost jumps. “Sorry,” he stammers immediately. “I meant that we should go somewhere else.”

Narrowing his eyes, Hux scrutinizes the faceplate of Ren’s mask, but it gives no more answers than the man himself.

“Fine,” he says, resigning himself to Ren’s drama. “Lead the way.”

~

Ren’s destination of choice turns out to be the dusty, open space in front of a bay window on Deck 2, typically used for loading cargo. It is currently deserted, which seems suspicious to Hux, but perhaps not entirely unlikely- after all, they have not received any new supplies for nearly a week now. The window in front of them draws his attention away from the battered walls of the room and towards the void of space, spattered by the bright pinpricks of stars or planets. Yet he scarcely has time to contemplate the view before Ren starts pacing in front of him.

“Can I ask what we’re doing here?”

Ren’s hands clench and unclench by his sides as he sweeps back and forth. “The bridge was too busy,” he mutters. “I wanted to do it there but I couldn’t clear them all out without looking suspicious.” He’s murmuring something under his breath, but the voice modulator turns it all into senseless static.

Hux clicks his tongue and reaches out for him. “Come on, now,” he says, “off with the helmet so I can understand you.”

At first, Ren shies away from his hand, but when Hux shoots him a questioning look, his shoulders slump, and he allows Hux to remove the helmet without protesting. His dark hair falls to shield his face, and Hux itches with the urge to sweep it aside and look Ren in the eye. Instead, he places the helmet on a nearby platform, returning to stand before Ren, who still seems paralyzed with anxiety.

Clearly he’s going to have to handle this with some level of tact. Ren is in one of his moods, and teasing this out of him won’t work the way it usually does.

“Ren,” he says gently, taking a single step closer. “Talk to me.”

“I…I think-,” Ren murmurs through the curtain of hair, “I think it’s time for us to take the next step in our relationship.”

“You- what?” The line sounds so stilted that he can scarcely take it seriously. “What ‘next step’ are you talking about?” Perhaps there’s some sex act that they haven’t performed yet? It would have to be fairly exotic to have not occurred to Hux yet…

Ren then shocks him completely past speech by sinking to one knee in front of Hux.

“What,” Hux repeats, once his voice has returned to him. Meanwhile, Ren is rooting frantically about in the folds of his robes as if searching for something. Before Hux can even express his reservations about any of this, Ren finds what he’s apparently been looking for, pulling it from some hidden pocket with a flourish.

“Another gift, Ren?” Hux manages, with a short, nervous laugh. Ren ignores him, opening the small black box with a flick of his fingers to reveal-

“Oh,” Hux breathes. _Oh._

Time seems to slow as he processes the sight before him. Ren is kneeling in front of him. Ren is nervous and blushing. Ren is holding out a lined, cushioned box containing a polished platinum ring, with tiny inset black stones.

Something very definite is happening here.

“Hux,” Ren says hoarsely, “I would be honored if you would become my husband.” He looks up at Hux, eyes shining with emotion.

Hux bursts out laughing.

Immediately, the taut, reverent expression on Ren’s face disappears, replaced by hurt and confusion. Yet even still, Hux can’t force himself to quiet. It’s as if something drawn tight has finally snapped in him, as if this one surreal act has finally pushed him into madness. Ren can’t be seriously hurt by this, because he simply can’t be taking it seriously in the first place.

Ren is still there, still silently kneeling at Hux’s feet, and so Hux must be the one to draw a deep breath and, wiping at his eyes, tell Ren that he must be joking.

“Why would I be joking?” comes the reply, in a smaller voice than Hux has ever heard from Ren before.

“Because we-“ his breathing is coming far too fast, uncontrollable- “because we’re a bloody _secret_ , Ren, we’re co-commanders, for fuck’s sake! You can’t possibly think this would be a good idea!”

Ren straightens up to stand before him, and now Hux is reminded of the man’s immense mass, the small but significant height advantage he holds over Hux. “I don’t mind,” he says softly. “We’ll have a secret marriage, just like my grandparents. That’s what I want. Because I love you.”

“Oh, Maker help us,” says Hux, which is probably not the correct response to a confession of love. “Ren, are you out of your mind? I can’t even begin to express all the ways this would-” It’s only then that Ren’s words catch up with him.

“Wait, what about your grandparents?” Anger and exasperation flood through Hux so fast that it’s a miracle he doesn’t faint from the force of it. “Are you- is this seriously yet another sick attempt at becoming Darth Vader? Do you honestly think you’ll be _closer_ to him by dragging me into some secret marriage?”

“No-“ says Ren, but Hux is already on a roll, with no intent of stopping.

“You can’t repeat the past, Ren!” he shouts, now holding his face very close to Ren’s own, his hands balled into fists by his sides in an attempt not to grab the man before him and shake him back and forth. “No matter what you do, you’ll never be your grandfather! It’s impossible, you’re a different person entirely! And I’m not going to sit here and be a prop for your fucking historical fantasies!”

Hux takes a step back then, breathing hard. He suddenly wants to sit down very badly, or maybe drink a glass of water and then curl up in bed for the next few centuries.

“Are you done?” says Ren, in his deep hum of a voice. Hux should be afraid. Anyone who offends Kylo Ren should be afraid. As it is, he’s just very, very tired.

“Yes,” he spits back, finally giving in to his urge to sit back on a nearby raised ledge. He can’t trust himself to stay steady on his feet anymore.

Ren surprises him once more by sitting down next to him on the ledge. Hux scoots away from him, fully aware of how childish he’s acting. Fuck it. He’s far too stressed and tired for any more of Ren’s theatrics.

“I know how this must seem to you,” Ren starts hesitantly. Hux scoffs, turning to stare out the massive window. Ren probably picked this spot to be romantic; he knows how Hux loves gazing out upon the infinity of space.

“But you should know that I was considering this even before I discovered those records about my grandfather.”

“Really,” says Hux, instilling as much sarcasm as he possibly can into the single word.

“Yes,” Ren responds, “really. My master even gave his approval once he sensed the idea growing in my mind.”

“You- Snoke gave his _approval_?” That puts the conversation he’d had with the Supreme Leader in a whole new light. It’s clear now that he’d been playing with Hux, holding the knowledge of Ren’s plans just over his head.

Of course, Ren could be lying, but he’s terrible at it, as Hux has noted in the past, and he always gives himself away sooner or later. Right now, with Ren’s apologetic gaze fixed upon his face, Hux can’t help but feel he’s telling the truth.

“So you’re really taking this seriously, then,” Hux says at last, turning back to face Ren. “And it’s not just a way of reliving your grandfather’s life.”

Ren nods, utterly earnest. “My grandfather is a very important figure to me. Of course I’d like to imitate him. But it’s like you said,” and his gaze drops to the floor, ashamed. “I can’t repeat the past. I wouldn’t make you a part of this unless I felt very strongly about you. And I do.”

As subtly as he can manage, Hux moves a little closer to Ren. “So exactly how much of this was inspired by your family?” he asks, careful to keep the emotion that rises in his chest out of his voice.

The corner of Ren’s mouth twitches upward. “Just the secret wedding idea. I thought it would be a good solution, given our, um, situation. Oh, and the lunch date, but you already know about that.”

“Yes, I remember.”

A long silence falls between them. Outside, an asteroid zips by the window, its surface pocked by countless impacts.

“Are you still angry?” asks Ren, after a lengthy pause. He’s curled in on himself a bit, the way he does when he’s ashamed or feeling lost. It’s achingly familiar to see him like this; Hux can recall many nights spent coaxing him back from some emotional brink, clumsily attempting to comfort him.

“A bit,” he answers honestly. “I’m sorry for laughing, though. That was cruel of me.”

Ren shrugs. “It’s alright. I hadn’t made myself clear, so you assumed I was joking.”

“Can I see the ring again?”

Obligingly, Ren pops open the little case once more, allowing Hux to inspect the little platinum band. It’s a fine piece of metalworking, really: perfectly rounded and solid, not some dainty fragile piece like the jewelry he’s seen sold in the New Republic. It wouldn’t even look out of place on his finger.

“You can keep it if you want,” says Ren. “I don’t mind. It’s still a gift to you, even if you don’t want to- you know.” He trails off, a tad morosely.

After a moment’s consideration, Hux gives a brisk nod.

“Yes,” he says decisively. “I think I will keep it.” He gives a small smile, remembering a similar gift given under very different circumstances, and echoes the words he’d said then. “I like it far too much to return it.”

Ren still holds out the box, as if expecting Hux to reach out and take it from him.

“Go on, then,” says Hux expectantly. “Aren’t you supposed to put it on me?”

Ren’s amber eyes go huge. “That’s- that’s only if-“

“If I accept your proposal?” Hux finishes for him. “Well, I do, so go ahead. I’ve decided. I’m keeping you as well, Ren.” He stops himself before he can say anything more embarrassing; as it is, he suspects he’s already going mad, to agree to something like this. Mad, sleep-deprived, or just more sentimental than he had expected of himself.

With trembling, ungloved hands, Ren slips the shining piece of jewelry onto the third finger of Hux’s left hand.

“There,” says Hux, willing his voice not to shake. “Wasn’t that easy?”

Ren gives a bark of laughter that dissolves halfway into a sob. Hux leans in then, to kiss his soft mouth and seal the dangerous contract they’ve made. It’s a very chaste sort of kiss, not their usual sort, but it’s slow and languorous and full of significance.

When they part, Ren slowly lowers his head to rest it on Hux’s knee, where Hux can stroke his long hair soothingly. He’s always loved the feeling of Ren’s thick curls against his fingers, though he rarely gets the occasion to do this outside of bed.

“So where is this secret wedding supposed to happen, anyway?” he asks after a lengthy, calm silence. “Certainly we can’t host it on the _Finalizer_.”

Ren turns his flushed face upwards towards Hux and smiles, full and glorious.

“I have a few ideas.”

~

The beams of this planet’s two suns break through the canopy of leafy branches overhead, dappling the underbrush with random, organic patterns. The forest separates the nearest settlement, which is inhabited mainly by hermits and holy persons, from the rest of the planet’s civilization. Here, the inhabitants receive gifts of food and requests of prayerful intercession from those villagers who brave the forest.

Unbeknownst to them, an Upsilon-class command shuttle has landed in a clearing close to the massive stone structure which accommodates those holy representatives. From that shuttle, two men have emerged and begun the walk to the ceremonial site, bickering quietly as they go.

“Your dress uniform? Really?”

“If you’d had objections, you should have voiced them before the day of our wedding,” Hux shoots back.

“Well, I wasn’t supposed to see what you were wearing. There’s some rule about that, it’s traditional.” The moss underfoot phases out, replaced by the soft long grass that grows around the convent, or monastery- neither term is truly applicable to the genderless beings that live there.

Hux snorts. “If only you’d warned me that you’d be wearing the same exact robes you wear every other day.”

“They’re not _exactly_ the same,” Ren protests. “Look, I even got a new hood. It’s not tattered like the old one.”

Hux grins despite himself. “Incredible.”

At the arched stone gate that marks the entrance to the hermitage, a robed figure greets the pair; they have been expected. They are led inside, up worn stairs and through hallways illuminated through colored glass, all the way up to a balcony that overlooks both the forest and the sunlit valley below. One sun has dropped lower towards the horizon, casting a golden glow over the scene.

At the end of the walkway, the holy figure stops and nods to Ren. He had communicated his desire for this ceremony through thought alone, so as not to break the hermit’s vow of silence. Apparently the neither-monk-nor-nun had not even questioned Ren’s ability to speak directly into their mind.

Ren straightens, understanding the cue, and turns to face Hux. He reaches out, hesitating only a moment before taking Hux’s hands in his.

Their vows are short: they’d written them together and discovered that neither had a particular talent for poetry. There had been a good number of failed drafts before they’d finally managed to settle on a few brief yet meaningful lines for each to say to the other. Mostly they concern faithfulness, patience, a love that endures through life and into death. Others address loyalty and a promise to endure the challenges that come with a secret relationship, which was perhaps an unorthodox addition to the more generic lines.

At the conclusion of the vows, they exchange rings; Ren had purchased them as a pair for what he claims was an exorbitant price; Hux suspects he may have just stolen them and mind-tricked the vendor. Either way, he considers it a very romantic gesture.

The second sun is beginning to dip in the sky when at last Hux reaches for Ren to kiss him. The officiating holy person regards the scene contemplatively, with perhaps a little curiosity as to the strange traditions of humans. Yet they have overseen many unusual rituals before this one, and they are not fazed in the least by the sight before them.

Hux takes Ren’s warm face in his hands as they kiss, blissed out with the feeling of having Ren so close to him, of being united in a way they never have been before. Ren, too, is enthusiastic in this as all things, his arms tightening around Hux’s waist to spin him around when they both break for air. It’s so ridiculous, so holo-film romantic that Hux can’t help but laugh and laugh, even after Ren has placed him back on the ground.

They leave the compound soon after, not wanting to overstay their uneasy welcome among the hermits there. Hux can’t stop sneaking looks at his new ring; it looks so beautifully fitting on his bare finger, for once free of its glove.

“I’ll have to take this off, you know,” he says to Ren, as they ascend the shuttle ramp. “Once we get back.”

Ren, who has not stopped holding Hux’s other hand since they left the site of their marriage, gives that hand a squeeze. “I know. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still have it on you.”

“How should I wear it?” Hux asks, but already his hand is rising to his throat, to the other token that sits there. He’d nearly forgotten about it in all the excitement.

“String it on the necklace, with the japor snippet,” Ren replies, heading to the controls. “I’ll wear mine around my neck, too.” He turns to flash Hux a fond smile. “It’ll sit right by your heart.”

Hux snorts at that, though not unkindly. “You big romantic, you.”

As Ren navigates the shuttle out of atmo, Hux fingers the carved wooden piece held tight against his skin under his dress uniform. Ren had said it would bring him good luck, though he wasn’t supposed to question it.

It’s been barely a few weeks since that day. Hux is now a married man, with a husband as devoted as he is deadly. He has procured considerable funds for the First Order, bringing it back from the brink of collapse and commanding it back to greatness. The Resistance has been silent, whole planets have fallen to the Order, and the construction of Starkiller II has just commenced.

 _Yes_ , Hux thinks, _perhaps Ren’s gift really has brought me luck._

Or maybe it’s just Ren himself who is the blessing.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to hit me up on my writing blog, [ moscca ](%E2%80%9Dmoscca.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D), or my main, [ giantsquidkid ](%E2%80%9Dgiantsquidkid.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)! I apologize if this story seems rough; I didn't have the time to get it beta'd, and any constructive criticism would be appreciated.


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